Free Hannah’s Beau by Renee Ryan

baking. It had been years since Hannah had dug her hands into dough. The sensation had felt nice, soothing. Distracting.
    Mrs. Smythe, the housekeeper and resident cook, beamed at her. “Such lovely work, Miss Southerland.” She motioned to the rising loaves. “Simply wonderful.”
    A swift jolt of pleasure shot through Hannah at the compliment. “Thank you. I enjoyed helping.”
    As if she’d timed her cue to perfection, Laney glided into the room and immediately honed in on Hannah’s efforts. “You’ve been busy.”
    “Can’t stand idle hands.” Hannah waggled her fingers to punctuate her statement.
    “I see that.”
    “What’s our status with the children?” Mrs. Smythe asked.
    With her face scrunched in concentration, Laney ticked off the specifics on her fingers. “The older children are getting cleaned up after their latest adventure in the mud. Trey and the pastor are shut in behind closed doors in Marc’s office.”
    She shot a questioning look at Hannah but didn’t wait for an answer. Lifting a third finger, she continued with her inventory. “Katherine and Mavis are deep intobath time with the little ones. And Marc is coordinating the rest. That means we have approximately twenty minutes before mayhem erupts again.”
    Mrs. Smythe blew out a satisfied sigh and shuffled toward a side door in the corner of the kitchen. “Well, then, I think I’ll take a few moments to put my feet up before I start supper.”
    “Sounds good. And you.” Laney pointed a finger at Hannah. “Why don’t you rest, as well? You look exhausted.”
    Without waiting for a response, Laney placed a hand on her shoulder and gently guided Hannah into a nearby chair.
    Officially too exhausted to fight, Hannah relaxed into the wooden seat. “I have been traveling for three days now.” She shook her head at the declaration. “I can’t believe it’s been that long since I left Chicago.”
    Three days. And every moment spent at Charity House was time lost on the trail. Her entire body trembled with impatience. But what could she do? Hannah squeezed her eyes shut and sighed. There was no point in rushing off. Yet.
    Just thinking about the vast number of places Rachel and Tyler could have gone made Hannah want to cry. More than a little heartsick, she felt the beginnings of a headache build behind her eyes.
    Laney touched her arm. Hannah opened her eyes and looked into a gaze filled with genuine sympathy.
    “Want to talk about it?” Laney asked.
    Breathing slowly, Hannah seriously considered the offer. There was something about Laney that made Hannah want to confide in her. And then she remembered the verses from Ecclesiastes. Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work…
    Perhaps it would help to have another person on her side.
    Laney pulled two mugs out of a cabinet and began pouring coffee. “I find it often helps to confide in a third party, someone objective.”
    Hannah nodded.
    Oh, Lord, give me the courage to be honest with this kind woman. Help me to trust her with the truth.
    “First, you should know that I’m an actress,” Hannah said, waiting for the condemnation she often received at such a declaration. When none came, she let out a sigh of relief and continued. “I travel in a Shakespearean company with Pastor Beau’s brother Tyler.”
    Laney set one of the cups in front of Hannah and brought the other to her lips. Curiosity sparked in her eyes, but she simply said, “Go on.”
    “A few days ago my twin sister came to Chicago to watch me perform. We’d become estranged over the years, and I’d prayed her visit would end the bitterness between us.”
    Her hope had been overwhelming, daunting even, but Rachel had quickly demonstrated that Hannah had built her dreams of reconciliation on shifting sand.
    “I can tell by your sadness that she disappointed you.” Laney looked at her with soft, understanding eyes.
    “After a two-day acquaintance, Rachel ran off with Tyler. They